


Rebirth

by crabstanaccount



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, Battle of the Mariana Trench, Canon-Typical Violence, Death, Gen, M/M, Redemption, Reflection, Self-Doubt, Stream of Consciousness, War, can't believe there's no hbhf fandom tag, fuckin censors, moral crisis, no betas we die like barfish, poor puff :(, the puffsalm can be read as platonic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 09:14:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29980650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crabstanaccount/pseuds/crabstanaccount
Summary: Pufferfish had killed before. He had done so without hesitation. What had changed?The abyssal waters around him held no answer.(Or: The Battle of the Mariana Trench from Pufferfish's POV)
Relationships: Pufferfish & Friends of the School, Pufferfish & the Benthic Alliance, Pufferfish & the School, Pufferfish/Salmon
Kudos: 3





	Rebirth

**Author's Note:**

> TWs: fish death, war, blood, murder, killing

Pufferfish was not a good man.   
Sure, he had helped people. He had worked to fix things. He even acted with good intent at times. But at the end of the day, there was still blood on his fins.   
Today, of course, he further damned himself. The Benthic Alliance fought to take down the School once and for all, and naturally, he joined them. He hated the School. They were his enemies.  
He raked his spikes along the side of Sardine. She let out an awful scream. He could only just hear it over the din of the battle raging around them. He could feel her blood. It was thick around him, coating his skin. She was surely dead. Unbidden, a wave of nausea rose in his stomach. He pushed it down. He had killed before. He could kill again.  
It didn’t stop him from trembling as the fight continued.  
The Mariana Trench was cold. He could feel it even under his thick military jacket. It was the sort of frigidness that sat in your bones. He could not escape it. Even when he left this wretched place, he knew, he would still feel it. It would barely be a whisper, but it would still be there, a constant burden.  
Look, there was Oarfish. In the dim light, he could see her silhouette, long and elegant as she fought against a swarm of enemies. She’d baked him cookies once, offered them to him while he was at Atlantis for a diplomatic meeting. Even after all of the awful things he’d done to her and her friends, she’d always shown him kindness. Surely there was blood running down her sides now, a thousand little cuts from small teeth. Surely she would soon be dead on the sea floor.   
And a little bit away was Koi, graceful even against hordes of enemies. They had a sword in their jaws. They’d once told him it was enchanted. It had belonged to an old king, they’d said, and anyone who fought with it in battle would be protected from harm. And sure enough, when they’d clashed shortly afterwards, he’d been forced to retreat. They felled enemy after enemy with it, sending them all spiraling into those godless depths.  
Would he lie there? Was he to die today? He didn’t want his final resting place to be so far from the sunlight. No one would bury him. The scavengers would come for his corpse. His memory would live on only in the harm that he had done.  
He killed. He killed without hesitation. It was all he knew how to do.   
Little Tunny passed him. For all his usual bravado, he appeared scared. He had never been a very good fighter. Pufferfish had attacked him once in hopes of harming the School’s morale. Lil’ Tun had fought back valiantly, but he had stood no chance. Pufferfish had hovered over him, looking into his eyes. In them, he’d seen nothing but a deep horror. For a reason he couldn’t place, Pufferfish had spared him. Maybe he’d sensed a fellow kindred spirit. Both he and Little Tunny were bound to no masters, after all. Had that encounter made them friends? Little Tunny had certainly treated him much kinder after that. Tuntun would swear no debt, of course, but there was a respect there.   
What was Pufferfish doing? Why was he still here? He was fighting against allies.   
He swam deeper into the fray.  
Around him, violence raged. He could hardly see through the water around him for all the blood. But he could still recognize the unmistakable silhouette of Adam Sandler. He was radiant, killing with ease. He remained a mystery to Pufferfish. He made an effort to dodge around him. He was too scared to approach him, he regocznised. Pufferfish didn’t much like acknowledging his own fear, but in this case, it was too prominent to ignore.   
With a flick of his nimble, spiked body, he killed a fish. He did not recognize him. He would never know their name. They spiraled down into the depths, their bones left to rot on the ocean floor.  
Pufferfish felt ill. He needed to get to the side of the battlefield. He was shaking, and he could no longer tell whether it was from the cold, adrenaline, or something else.   
He made his way out of the heart of the battlefield. On his way, he passed Catfish. He relied on his stealth and charm more than his fighting skills, Pufferfish knew, but he could kill if need be. He moved carefully, waiting and watching for an opportunity. And when a fish turned their back, he’d swallow them whole. Even a gentleman like him was able to be ruthless now. Why couldn’t Pufferfish?   
Because he’d come to care for his enemies.  
The thought startled him. He winced. He felt tears welling in his eyes. He didn’t want to do this anymore.  
Breath heaving, he hovered at the edge of the battlefield. He was too far gone now to stop. How could he be anything but this? He was trapped in this awful cycle of violence.  
Through the blood, he saw Zoarcid Fish. They fought with trained precision. He had barged into one of the School’s training sessions with them once, trying to assassinate them before the battle, but before he had attacked, he’d watched. From everything they’d said, he’d gathered that they were much like Little Tunny; that is to say, they rejected chains. R*ckfish had mentioned he’d thought it was destiny for them to win the battle. Zoarcid Fish had scoffed at that. “Destiny isn’t real,” they’d said. “Your choices are your own.”  
And beside them was Bitterling, far smaller but no less powerful. She’d never been on good terms with him, and for good reason. But she’d always offered him a grudging respect for his cunning. Would she soften towards him if he used that cunning for good?   
Pufferfish was not made for this. He was not made to kill needlessly. He was not born into evil, but rather, he had chose it. He had chosen it again and again and again, from his first charge of loitering to the very moment of this battle. Was it time to try something new? Was it time to acknowledge the potential for kindness in his heart?   
There he was.   
Salmon. Pufferfish gasped at the sight. He was sleek and stunning. He had always been more of a healer than a fighter, but he still defended his friends valiantly today. Salmon was the kindest fish Pufferfish had ever known. He had always tried to reason with Pufferfish, offer him friendship and affection. But every time, Pufferfish had refused him. Regardless, Salmon had grown on him, and he’d come to support him through his divorce. Salmon was one of the few people Pufferfish would really consider a friend, perhaps something more.   
And, looking at the battle, Salmon and the School were outnumbered. Without help, they would be slaughtered.   
Pufferfish could choose to let this happen. He could keep killing for no reason other than his own personal gain. Or he could do something greater.  
He cast off his jacket, and with it, his allegiance to the Benthic Alliance. He fought for the School now. He dove into the battle once more.


End file.
